It Bars the Gates of Death
by PikaCheeka
Summary: Lucius must decide whether to make Draco a Death Eater or not. His decision of what he thinks is right results in his death coming upon him. As it does, he wonders if what he did was worth it. PG13 for minor language, angst, blood, and death.


A very long author's note that you can feel free to skip if you wish: Summary: Hmmm...I don't know how to explain this really. It could be a sequel to I Just Don't Care Anymore. But it doesn't have to be, I mean, it's a stand alone at the same time. Lucius changes his mind about Draco becoming a Death Eater and battles Voldemort for his sons life. But of course, in every battle, there must be a loser.

Yet another Lucius POV by me.

Yes, it may be a good idea to read Dark Blood before this too. If you want to, that is. For as you may know, that is the root to all my Harry Potter fics.

Sorry if it's sad. I tried not to make it so, but every fic I try not to make sad, it is. So it probably will be sad. ::must stop saying sad:: Just warning you. [and no, there's nothing wrong with me, I'm not depressed, so don't bother asking.] Actually, I did have a slightly different ending, but I cried when I wrote it, and I rarely cry, so I rewrote the last two pages or so. Same outline, just not so much angst.

O yes. I'm sorry to say that this is PG13, for this is some language in this, along with a lot of violence, blood, and angst. 

And it is boring at first, but it gets better.

And if you think it is sad, please tell me. I need to know if I am better at writing sad fics then I am at funny ones. I think I am, but I don't really know.

It Bars the Gates of Death

By PikaCheeka

Chapter 1

I apparated into the meeting two seconds late. Already a bad start. I would have gotten there a whole lot sooner if I had known what was going on. But does Voldemort ever tell us Death Eaters what is going on? Most people would think so, but it's not true at all. He doesn't even tell me what is going most of the time, and I'm the top Death Eater.

"You're late..." Voldemort hissed.

I didn't answer. I just swept into my place in the circle, right beside the gravestone of some unfortunate soul by the name of "Edgar Allen Poe..." I heard he was a crazy half blood. Well known to muggles. Truth to tell, I didn't even know where this graveyard was, let alone who everyone in it was. All I knew was that he was a poet, who wrote this poem about a raven.

"We are here today..." Voldemort shot a nasty look at me right then. "To speak of your heirs..."

I stiffened a little and almost sighed. Our heirs, in other words, our kids. To be yet more precise, Draco. Who I wasn't sure about anymore. Death Eater? Or just evil intelligent wizard?

"Many of you know have heirs the age of seventeen or sixteen." He shot yet another look at me. "Those who started their kids early." Me, that could only be me. I started Draco at school a year earlier then I should have, but Dumbledore allowed him.

Crabbe, ever the idiot, muttered out a quiet. "Why now and not sooner?"

"Stupid fool!" Voldemort spat. "Didn't you pay attention last month? One of you will have a son kill Dumbledore, then I shall finally get my revenge on that boy!"

Crabbe shrugged and nodded. I often wondered how he got away with being so stupid. Pettigrew was stupid one too many times last year and ended up dead. Good thing too, I hated that sniveling snot. If Crabbe smart-mouthed our Lord one more time though, he'd probably get killed and I'd be stuck with his stupid son. Most of the Slytherins nowadays are stupid. If they have an ounce of intelligence, they are put in Gryffindor. A disgrace to Salazar. I sometimes wondered how Draco got there. He's not a genius, but he's smart. If he studies, he gets top score. If he studies, that is. He spends half his life thinking up revenge and drawing.

Suddenly, the gravestone on the other side of me exploded. I jumped up and whipped out my wand, snarling angrily. I hate it when people scare me.

"Not paying attention, are we Lucius?" Voldemort purred, fingering his wand.

I scowled, realizing that I had completely zoned out on his speech.

"As I was saying..." he continued. "I would like all of you to bring your heirs tomorrow here. I do not care if they are to young to apparate. If all goes well, there will be no Ministry of Magic in a matter of days."

"What if they don't know any dark magic yet?" Crabbe again.

"They should. I told all of you to teach your kids every spell you know..." Voldemort hissed, his agitation was growing every second. It was rather funny, if he wasn't so mad at me. He slipped up on his high language and said 'kids' instead of his usual 'heirs'.

"But they go back to school tomorrow." Goyle added.

"I know. Now shut up. Take them to school, then pull them out for a day if you must."

I didn't think there was much of a point to that. I sighed and stared at the ground, which was still smoldering. I wondered briefly what spell he had used to do such damage to a stone. Then I jerked to attention again, remembering my master's mood.

"Get out of here!" he spat. "You stay here Crabbe......"

Then he looked right at me. "And you too Lucius..."

I shuddered involuntarily and stayed there, watching everyone vanish before my eyes. My supposed friends, who just didn't want to risk their lives helping me.

"Crabbe, go over there..." he pointed to the far side and then beckoned for me to step forward. I did carefully.

"I wanted to tell you to make sure to bring your son tomorrow."

I stared at him for a second. So that was what it was. I nodded dumbly, before realizing what I was doing. But then it was too late.

"Good. I believe he has the best brains of the lot. Now go."

I sighed and apparated, an impending sense of doom hanging over me.

Chapter 2

Draco greeted me at the door. He was home for the Easter holidays, probably why the meeting was now. He smirked at me, he never really smiles, and said "Hello Father. Mother went shopping three hours ago. She said she'd be back in six." His pet raven on his shoulder cawed softly. It made me think of that gravestone, and the dead soul.

I shrugged and pushed past him. He jumped aside. "The lord in a bad mood tonight?"

I was about to say that no, he wasn't. It was I who was in a bad mood. But I nodded after a moment.

Draco didn't answer, instead he slipped past me, in the narrow eight inches of space between me and the wall. He's to thin for a sixteen-year-old boy. He looks ten. He still wears clothes in the kids section at all the robe shops and designer wizard clothes stores.

He's far too young and fragile for such a heavy weight to be put on him.

An hour later he flew back down into the living room, one of them anyway. He has this thing about using his new Firebolt in the house. I don't stop him. What else is this high ceiling for?

"What the heck is this meant to mean?" he snapped, slamming his arithmancy book into my lap.

I stared at the problem for a few seconds, completely unfocused.

"Well?" he leaned against the chair, a look of puzzlement clear on his face.

"Do you want to be a Death Eater?" I asked suddenly. Exactly what was on my mind.

He stared at me for a second. "Don't you want me to be one?"

I didn't answer. I have a habit of avoiding answering questions I do not care to answer. Instead, I began figuring out the problem in the book.

After a minute, he shrugged and said, "Well, if you want me to be one, I will. And if you don't, then I won't...You do want me to be one, don't you?"

I didn't answer again and handed him back his book with the answer written into it. He could erase it later if he really cared. It was his own book anyway.

He sighed and picked up his broomstick again. I couldn't help but notice the fact that his belt had new holes cut into it so it fit correctly. He's too thin for any normal waist. Far to thin. He eats constantly, but he has super-high metabolism and nervous energy, so he wastes far more then he eats.

I knew that he could be a powerful wizard. And he is somewhat strong, not as string as a boy his age could be. He was sick half his childhood. He almost died about thirteen times. That's why I like the number thirteen. I'm thankful he didn't nearly die fourteen times, for that fourteenth time could have been the last.

The evening dragged by after that. Only an hour had passed, and I was still struggling with the idea of whether Draco should become a Death eater or not. I know what it did to me. It killed me. But now in the outer body sense. The inner me, the romantic one, the caring one, it was all lost when I became a Death eater. It caused me to kill the ones I loved, and it caused me to hate everyone and everything who wasn't like me. And Draco is not me. He can not be me. And I do not know if I hate him or love him for it.

The world does not need another Lucius. I do not need another Lucius either.

On the other hand, becoming a Death eater might be good for him. It would give him a taste of power, which he has never felt. Well, he has, but not at the same time. It is strange. And when I do think about it, Draco does not love because he has never felt it. I love him, but I do not ever show it. Narcissa does not, and there is nobody else alive who does. So he, unlike me, has absolutely nothing to lose.

Nothing to lose but me.

Chapter 3

Narcissa charged in through the door some time lately, humming loudly and swinging a bunch of bags. She stopped abruptly when she saw me sitting there sulkily. But she chose to ignore that. 

"Where is Draco?" she asked. "I have some clothes for him..." she raised one of the bags.

"In his room..." I muttered darkly. It was no wonder why Draco is the way he is.

She smiled and vanished up the stairs. She had left a few bags on the floor near me.

When I realized that she wasn't coming back any time soon, I reached over and grabbed one. It was a new wand. Eleven inches, swishy, unicorn hair, ash wood. I smiled wryly, she had broken her last one when she flung it at someone a few weeks ago. Somebody had insulted Draco in front of her. She's protective, but other then that, she's nothing as a mother.

I tossed it back into the bag and reached for another.

At that moment, Draco leapt down the stairs and landed a few feet from me. I guess I jumped about a mile because he laughed. "He really was mad today, wasn't he?"

"Where's Narcissa?" I asked calmly.

"She left again, something didn't fit..."

"What?" I sighed, wondering what she bought him this time. I swear, she thinks he only cares about girls, buying him every new fashion on the market.

He smiled wryly and vanished again. The one good thing about him being so small is that he's very fast and flexible. Sometimes enough to drive you mad.

A few minutes later, he appeared again wearing new clothes.

"I thought she returned it." I sighed before daring to look at it.

"No, she's just buying more. The waist is too big."

I glanced up. The pants were strange. I thought it was muggle clothes for a second. They were black and narrow, not tight exactly, but very narrow all the same. Showing off the thinness. Showing off the sickness.

The shirt was another black button down, this one had a sheen to it. Probably dragon's hide. He did look very good in it actually. Better then what she normally got him. He even had new boots. He must have forty pairs. These ones were, once again, narrow, and pointed. He looked a lot more like a wizard with them on. No muggle would find those. 

He smirked again and posed for a split second before vanishing up the stairs.

Ten minutes later, I could hear him singing upstairs. 

He's strange. He loves singing, and he's actually very good at it. He can go up really high and still sound like a guy, unlike most male singers. But he never sings in front of anyone except Narcissa and I, and even not then in front of us. Just in the house. I've never seen him sing. I sometimes wonder if he does weird stuff like dancing or jumping on his bed.

The night wore on.

And no obvious answer came.

Chapter 4

The next morning Draco was already at the door with his trunk when I arrived at the house. I had been unable to sleep all night, and had gone off into the night, as I often do. I hunt. What, I shall not tell. But it is fairly obvious.

He smiled at me when I appeared. He knows what I do, I told him in the summer before his fifth year.

"Are you ready to go?" I said tightly.

He nodded, giving me that strange look he has been giving me since I came home last night. "I'm all set."

I wish I was as well.

King's Cross station wasn't very crowded. Not many kids come home for the Easter holidays. I had decided what I would do.

"Bye Father. See you in about two months..." he vanished into the car before I could answer. 

The train pulled away a few minutes later with me standing there. Was what I was about to do the right thing?

I sighed heavily after a moment and slumped off into the muggle world. I passed by a bar but didn't bother to go in. My allergy to alcohol prevents me from drinking, which is good. Because I think it is stupid and idiotic. But right now I was so depressed, i was afraid I would if I could. Coffee, on the other hand...

The cafe was full of high school girls, a track team, I think. Muggles come up with the stupidest past-times. They all smiled and waved at me when I passed by, as if they knew me. I scowled at them, bothered at the thought that my own son was only a few years younger then they.

People are always under the impression that I'm between the ages of twenty and thirty, when in reality I am forty-one. The problem with being a Malfoy is sometimes the way we look.

The coffee was slightly cold, but I drank it anyway. Nothing better to do but worry about tonight. There were so many ways my plan could go wrong.

The day rushed by with a great fury. It went far to fast. Not enough time to think about my plan. Only time enough to do it.

Chapter 5

The school doors were open, due to the fact that a great deal of students were at Hagrid's hut. Care of Magical Creatures. I wondered briefly if Draco was out there, but my curiosity was answered when I heard a tremendous crash and a shout of fury.

Without a backward thought, I rushed over to the scene. A group of students were crowded around my son, Harry, and Ron. Ron was crumpled on the ground and Harry had his hands around Draco's throat. I noticed with satisfaction that Draco was fighting viciously and Harry was bleeding.

"Where is stupid Hagrid????" Pansy finally shrieked.

I laughed quietly, coming up directly behind her. She turned around and simpered at me. "O thank goodness you're here. Can you help Draco?"

The darkness of my mind was powerful now. "What?" I snapped. "You think I'm going to let some half blood Gryffindor beat up my son and get away with it?" The thought flashed through my mind that maybe Voldemort was right, and I was not.

"Sorry..." Pansy whined and shrank back.

I stalked forward and grabbed Harry's arm. He shouted out a loud, "Get away from me, Hermione! I'm busy!"

I couldn't help but laugh. I flung him to the ground and hissed softly. "You think I'm Hermione, do you? A mudblood??" the look on his face would have been worth hundreds of galleons right then.

Draco collapsed to his knees, holding his throat and snarling at Ron and Harry. He didn't seem that hurt. At least he wasn't all bloody. His fist was when he knocked Ron in the nose, but other then that, he appeared unhurt.

At that moment, Hagrid walked up. I jumped back. He seems to think he can throw other adults around when it comes to his friend's kids. And I seem to be his favorite to boss around.

"What's the problem 'ere?" he asked.

"Your friend, Harry, was strangling my son." I said quietly, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He noticed me then for the first time. "Lucius!" he cried. "Whatcha doin' 'ere?"

I sneered at him but didn't answer. 

Draco smiled and stood up slowly. I think he had just noticed me as well. "He's not going to answer somebody like you who can't even use proper English." He smiled, wiping his fist on his robes.

"My thoughts exactly." I smirked, then I turned and headed off to the school, dragging Draco and Harry behind. Ron came willingly, as did Pansy and Hermione. 

Why couldn't Pansy just leave Draco alone? And better yet, Harry, Ron, and Hermione?

"Lucius!" Dumbledore said, hiding his disappointment when he opened the door to his office and found me standing there. "Whatever is the matter?" he added when he realized that everyone was behind me. 

"Harry was trying to strangle my son." I said calmly.

"That's because he punched Ron!" Harry cried.

"Yea, only because he insulted my family." Draco sneered.

"Because you called Hermione a mudblood!" Harry roared.

"She is one, you know. Like I'd call you a stuck up snot. It's not an insult, it's just the damn truth!" Draco shot back.

"And you're a royal pain in the butt!" Ron hissed.

"Better royal then poor, Weasley!" Draco shouted, reaching for his wand.

I noticed with slight amusement that Draco could hold up very well in an argument.

"My, my. Seventh years fighting like children." Dumbledore shook his head, smiling.

I scowled at him, pushing past him. "Well, aren't you going to do something?" I snapped.

"What is there to do?" he smiled again.

I wanted to punch him then and there. Now, more then anything, I wanted Draco to become a Death eater and kill this loser.

Draco and I stood outside the school, starring at the Whomping Willow. The fiasco with the fight had faded off with no punishments given.

"Why are you here?" Draco asked finally.

"Because...." I trailed off, trying to think about how to explain it. 

The sun was setting. I should be with Voldemort by now, with Draco.

"Well?" Draco demanded. I could tell he was getting angry.

"Voldemort..." I started to say. But then a sharp pain in my forearm stopped me. It crawled to a much greater pain in a matter of seconds and I unconsciously doubled over, gasping.

"Is Voldemort calling you???" Draco hissed, shock evident on his face.

I forced a slight nod.

"So why won't you go?" he asked.

"He will come..." I whispered back.

That, within itself, was scarier then anything. It meant that my plan was already in the works, there was no turning back. Or maybe there was....

I knew that Voldemort would come and find me if I didn't come. I didn't want to come. I wanted to talk to him first, tell him I was wary of Draco becoming a Death Eater because of his size. And how I loved him. But I couldn't say that.

I straightened up and grabbed Draco, "Come here..."

"Where?" he pulled away, this time fear was etched on his pale face.

"To that empty dungeon." I answered quickly. I didn't want Voldemort appearing right here.

"Why?"

"Shut up and go..." I shoved him toward the door.

He scowled and suddenly bolted. I sighed and followed him. 

By the time I arrived there, he was already waiting, looking extremely sulky.

Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one waiting.

Chapter 6

Voldemort stood there. He too, was scowling and twirling his wand between two of his long fingers. I shuddered and backed up slightly.

"Well, well, well. Lucius. My thought to be best Death eater. I guess I was wrong."

"What's going on?" Draco suddenly cried.

Voldemort leered at Draco. "Don't you know? You were supposed to come to me tonight. But your father here retaliated."

Draco turned to stare at me. "Why?"

"There is a reason..." I said, struggling with myself. It was much worse then I had thought.

"But I want to be a Death Eater..." Draco gasped.

Voldemort laughed softly. Then I realized.

I lunged at Voldemort, crashing him against the wall.

"You cursed Draco, didn't you?"

"Why would I do that?" Voldemort grinned, shoving me away.

"You wanted me to think he wanted to be a Death eater, so you set the impervious curse on him." I hissed.

"Or did I? There is no way of knowing. Maybe he does indeed want to be one."

I shrank back, the truth setting in. With a flash of sudden fury, I whirled around and shot the counter-curse at Draco, just to be safe. He stumbled and fell against the wall.

"Get out of here!" I cried.

He nodded, shaking badly. Then in a split second, he was gone. I knew he'd be back. Or would he?

Voldemort sighed and fiddled with his wand. "You still don't know."

"I do. He stumbled. That means he was cursed."

"Or was it just the fact that all that raw power hit him? It is a powerful counter-curse. Seeing as it is difficult. And with such a small son, it would hurt him, do you not think?" Voldemort stepped forward threateningly.

I didn't want it to be true. It couldn't be true. "Liar." I hissed, leveling my wand with his chest.

"O, are you against me now?"

"You tortured my son, and you will pay." I narrowed my eyes, hoping, despite the cruelty of it all, that it was true. For now I had gone to far to live without a fight. And I wanted to be fighting for a reason, not the hope of a dead romantic. "You'll be sorry you ever taught me all those curses. AVADA KEDAVRA!!!!!!!"

Everything went black for a second, then the light returned. I was on the floor, and Voldemort stood over me. He was holding a dead snake. "I always keep one of these close to my heart." he smiled and threw it at me. I gasped and jumped up. He kept a snake in his robes in case anyone ever did that?

"Did you know that if you leave the Crucia curse on anyone long enough, they die?" he sneered. A rather random question.

"Yes. How could I not know?"

"And that I have this?" From within his robes, he whipped out a dagger, perhaps two feet long, studded with emeralds and silver snakes. It had two blades, one black, one silver. The sword of Salazar Slytherin himself.

I didn't stand a chance against that sword.

Chapter 7

Thinking fast, I whipped my wand around and hit him with another curse. This one was meant to dull any blade. It worked, to my great satisfaction. But not enough to do very much. Maybe another hit or two would snap it.

"Not so fast." Voldemort suddenly hit me in the stomach with a different curse.

I wheeled around and blinked back pain. After a minute, it passed. But I could still feel that burning sensation.

"Ready to give up?" Voldemort grinned.

"Not until you say you won't make Draco a Death Eater." I gasped. I didn't know why I was doing this. It was futile. Stupid.

"Why bother? He wants to be one. You can't change that."

I whimpered slightly. Unintentional, but he still noticed. And he laughed.

"Scared, are you? There is no way you can win."

"If you want to kill somebody. Kill me." I hissed, knowing I was being stupid, stalling for time.

"And?"

"And let Draco decide what he wants to be." 

I suddenly lunged at him, whipping out the dagger I always carry with me but rarely use.

He let out an odd shrieking hiss and leapt aside. I surprised him. Caught him off guard.

I smiled warily and lunged again, this time I met with his sword. It rang loudly and jolted my arm, the raw power hitting me hard. I clenched my teeth and ducked, bring up a sharp uppercut. He caught it again.

"Crucia!" he suddenly roared, aiming his wand at me.

I swore loudly even as I fell, the pain biting into me like never before. It felt like sharp daggers everywhere. I hated him. 

"You want to feel a dagger, do you?" he smiled and raised his sword. I forgot he can read minds. I wish I had never thought of sharp daggers.I was too weak to get up, but I managed to roll over and kick at him.

Then he flung the dagger.

"Keep the damn thing. I no longer have a use for it." he smiled and sank into the shadows as it hit my side and shadows of my own closed in.

Chapter 8

"Father!" I heard Draco cry loudly as I cracked my eyes open. Sharp pain bit into me and I wished for a second that I was unconscious again.

He rushed forward and fell to his knees a few feet in front of me. My own blood, covering the floor, did the rest. He skidded the last inches and was beside me in a second.

"What's this?' he gasped, grabbing the sword hilt.

"Don't touch it!" I gasped.

"Who did this?? Voldemort?" he muttered, a look of pure revulsion on his face.

I rolled over onto my side and tried to nod, but was unable to. There was a red mist clouding my eyes everywhere.

"You were right..." he suddenly muttered.

"What?" I gasped, fighting back the pain.

"I didn't want to be a Death Eater. He cursed me..." he bit his lip as tears started falling from his eyes. Within seconds, blood was dripping from his mouth.

"Don't die..." he whispered.

I didn't answer for a moment. I was having trouble breathing now. "The pain is going..." I finally said. And it was true. But I knew what that meant. And so did he.

"If the pain is leaving you, that means you're dying..." he moaned, ever blunt.

He suddenly jumped up and screamed. He jumped up and down and started howling out every swear he knew, and then some.

A rather odd way to take it.

After a minutes, he collapsed, his hands covered with blood where he had scratched himself. His face mouth dripping blood where he had bitten himself. He was gasping for breath. "I'll kill him." He hissed.

"How can you look so peacefully when you're leaving me?" he whimpered. The sadness had overtaken him again.

"We will meet again..." I gasped, hoping against hope it was true. I didn't know though. Where was I going? Heaven or hell? If it was the latter, I hoped he didn't follow.

"We will?" he said blankly.

I swore silently to myself for never teaching him religion. "Yes..."

"Good, 'cause I can't stand it without you..." he sobbed, breaking down completely and crumpling into a ball on the floor.

This caused me to feel happy for a split second. I felt happy for a second in this damned life of mine, and it was caused by my son. Who I thought hated me. I never could have been so wrong. And now, now is was to late to show him that I loved him. Unless...

"Draco?" I gasped, trying to find air. 

He jumped.

"I want you to know...that I love you..."

He smiled weakly and furiously wiped the tears from his face. He leaned against me now, knowing I was far beyond any pain. But in a way I was not. I was only beyond physical pain.

"And I love you too Father..." he whispered hesitantly, as if the words were new to him, and I knew they were.

"We will meet again?" he asked. I guess he was nervous about that.

I struggled to draw air and choked, coughing up blood.

He didn't move, just stared at the blood all over his new boots.

"Yes. It bars the gates of death, you know..." I finally managed. My heart was faint now. It would be any minute.

"What does?" he asked.

"Love does. Love Bars the Gates of Death, son."

He quivered slightly.

"Just remember Draco, that I love you like a Father should. For I am your father. Now take this sword from me. I will die. I want you to go, and don't think back..." It was a lot for a dying man to say, and it had taken it's toll.

He hesitated and said, "If I take it, you will die immediately."

"I know." I whispered.

He nodded, then stood up. He grabbed the sword hilt in his hand and pulled. "I am sorry, father. I will avenge you."

Chapter 9

I gasped in shock as my life's blood flooded out.

Draco stared at me for another moment and he started crying again, silently this time. There was a new look of ugly determination in his eyes.

I smiled at him weakly.

He forced a small one back, then he turned quickly and ran out the door, flashing the sword around. My son, my vengeful son. He truly is a Malfoy.

I sighed and closed my eyes for the last time, forever. The shadows began to close in. 

But no pain was felt. 

Only love.

I wanted that vision of Draco to stay in my mind forever. And I knew it would.


End file.
